#Angie McGucket

[thelastspeecher]

Weird Little Critter - Chapter 2: Study

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 AO3

Here's the next chapter of the thing @elishevart and I have been working on together! Enjoy some quality axolotl Ford moments!

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              The sun had just begun to peek over the horizon when Angie sat bolt upright in bed, abruptly overcome by the events of the night before.  She threw her covers off and ran to the bathroom.  She had to reassure herself it hadn’t all just been a dream.

              The bathroom door still lying on the floor indicated that at least some of what she remembered was true.  Angie made a mental note to track down a toolbox from somewhere to fix it later.  She crept through the doorway as silently as she could, holding her breath as she approached the bathtub.  Her breath escaped in a soft gasp when she saw the mysterious creature still sleeping below the surface of the water.

              Getting a good look at Ford’s strange form in the light of the day, when she was fully lucid, made it possible for her to notice more subtle details.  His light pink skin along his back had stray tiger stripes of a barely lighter pink.  He had random spots of black and light green that looked more like freckles than the kind of coloration that helped with camouflage.  His caudal fin was a baby blue, as were his external gills and the tuft of material on top of his head in the same shape as his hair.  His external gills flicked slowly, matching the pace of his breathing.  Ford rolled over onto his back, exposing his solid white belly.  Angie barely held back a squeal at just how adorable the movement had been.  It reminded her of one of the many kittens the farm cats had back home.

              All right, best get out of this room ‘fore I get overwhelmed by the cuteness and wake ‘im up.  Angie glanced at the window above the tub.  The moon was still in the sky, but slowly drooping behind the tree line.  She had some time before Ford returned to normal.

              Angie hurried back to her room, grabbed her camera, and took a few photos of Ford.  Then, she went to get dressed and brushed her teeth in the kitchen sink.  She didn’t want to be in the bathroom, just in case her friend transformed back to a fully nude human while she was brushing her hair.  A faint blush spread across her cheeks at the thought.

              Once she was ready, Angie grabbed a pencil and new field notebook, then sat down at the kitchen table to jot down what she had observed thus far.

              His features are broadly similar to that of an axolotl, though that could be a false lead.  Angie tapped her pencil against the paper, thinking.  The traits that make him resemble an axolotl, namely the external gills and caudal fin, aren’t inherent to axolotls.  They’re just juvenile traits that have been retained to adulthood.  Presumably, any salamander that retained those traits would be axolotl-like in appearance.  Ford’s also far bigger than any axolotl I’ve ever heard of.  There are larger salamanders out there, but none of them have the coloration that Ford has.  Of course, the coloration he has doesn’t fit an axolotl well, either.  I don’t think even leucistic axolotls look like that…

              Angie had been chewing on her thoughts and idly writing them down when she heard noise coming from the second floor.  Water splashed, followed by a loud thud and soft grunt of discomfort.  She smiled.

              ‘Bout time he woke up.  Angie got up from the table and got started on breakfast.  By the time Stanford entered the kitchen, wearing clean clothes but his hair still damp, the small room had been filled with the smell of brewing coffee.  Ford made a beeline for the coffeemaker and poured himself a cup.  Only after he took his first sip did he notice Angie standing at the stove, watching him with amusement.

              “Oh!”  Ford startled slightly.  Angie chuckled.  “I, uh, I didn’t realize you were…”

              “It’s okay.  Ya needed yer coffee to fully wake up.  I get it.”  Angie shrugged.  “Rarely is there a day that I don’t take quite some time to shake off the sleep m’self.”

              “Are you making breakfast?” Ford asked.  Angie looked down at the skillet sizzling away in front of her.  She looked back at her friend.

              “I certainly hope so,” she drawled.  Ford turned pink.

              “You didn’t have to.”

              “Do we have to have this conversation every time I make food fer us?  I was raised right, Stanford.  Now, sit down.  The eggs ‘re almost done.”  Ford obeyed and went to the table.  He sat in the chair Angie had been occupying, raising an eyebrow at the open notebook with her observations.

              “You’ve gathered quite a few notes in a short amount of time,” he remarked, flipping through the pages.  Angie smiled.  She carefully slid an omelet onto a plate and placed it in front of Ford, then grabbed her own and sat across from him.

              “I’m a quick learner ‘n observer.  It’s what I was trained to do.  Ya don’t always get much time with critters, so you’ve got to be able to notice a lot ‘bout ‘em fast.  It helps that I had a bit of a head start with the rumors I heard.  But most of m’ notes are just speculation and comparison between critters I know ‘bout.”  Angie paused to eat a few forkfuls of her breakfast.  “I know I said you resemble an axolotl, but I ain’t quite sure anymore.”  Ford swallowed his mouthful of food before replying.

              “Because of my size?” he asked, sounding slightly sheepish.  Angie chuckled.

              “Yer definitely bigger ‘n any axolotl ever recorded, but there are some salamanders out in Asia what are even bigger ‘n you!”

              “Really?”

              “Oh, yes.  The zoo I used to work fer had one of ‘em Chinese giant salamanders.  That sucker was just ‘bout as big as me.”  Angie chewed her breakfast for a few moments.  “Yer features in that other form don’t resemble any single salamander I know of.  Could be a hybrid or maybe even a whole new species.  Frankly, given that yer some sort of were-critter, anything is possible!  Ain’t that excitin’?”  Ford was silent.  He poked his omelet halfheartedly.  “…Stanford?”

              “To be frank…”  He set down his fork with a loud sigh.  “This is exciting.  Or rather, it would be, were I not the subject.  This is all rather overwhelming.”

              “I understand.”

              “But even with being overwhelmed, I am still most excited to finally get some answers about what happened to me, what I’ve become.”  Ford offered a weak smile.  Angie returned the expression.  “I look forward to picking your brain further and discussing our own observations.”

              “Yessir,” she said with a nod.  “I reckon we can talk and plan after we go to the store.”

              “Pardon?” Ford asked.

              “Stanford, I told ya, yer current lifestyle ain’t beneficial fer whatever kind of creature ya are now.  After breakfast, we’re headin’ to the store to find some dif’rent body care items.”

              “But-”

              “I ain’t takin’ no fer an answer,” Angie said firmly.  She got up from the table and set her empty plate in the sink.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve needed the restroom fer quite some time.”

-----

              “Can’t believe they didn’t have a single thing I was lookin’ fer,” Angie’s voice carried through the door of Ford’s bedroom.

              “Are you still thinking about that?” Ford asked as he removed his clothes.  He could feel a tingling sensation beginning to spread across his skin, as though he was getting goose bumps on his entire body.  The full moon was going to rise soon.  “This is a small town.  I have to order most of my more specialized equipment to be mailed in.”

              “I know,” Angie whined.  Despite a fervent and thorough search of the various shops in town earlier that day, they returned home empty-handed when Angie couldn’t find any of the items on her list.  “I got too used to livin’ in a big city where ya can find everything ya need without leavin’.”  She sighed.  “I guess we’ll just have to go to Eugene at some point.”

              “We don’t have to.  I’ve been fine thus far.”

              “That ‘fine’ is very debatable,” Angie said firmly.  “And think about it like a scientist, Stanford.  We’ll learn more ‘bout yer condition if we learn how to make ya operate on the same level ya were ‘fore it happened.”

              Dammit.  She has a point.

              “Yer not sulkin’, are ya?” Angie teased.  “Don’t worry, I ain’t always right.”  Ford chuckled despite himself.  Suddenly, the pricking sensation turned into needles.  He let out a gasp of pain.  Angie shifted outside the door.  “Stanford?”

              “Please…go downstairs,” Ford grunted.  Angie had managed to talk him into allowing her to listen to his transformation, but he knew she couldn’t stay.

              Like F, she has too kind of a heart.  It would pain her to hear what comes next.  To her credit, Angie didn’t try to argue.

              “Okay,” Angie said softly.  He heard her gently place her hand on the door.  “If ya can’t get out when yer done, smack yer tail on the floor three times ‘n I’ll let ya out.”

              “Under…stood,” Ford managed.  Pain flared through his flesh, seeping into his bones.  He wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer.  Footsteps sounded as Angie walked away.  Once the footsteps faded, Ford dropped to all fours.  He screamed as his bones rearranged.  Six points around his head and neck itched, then burned when his gills erupted.  A similar sensation accompanied the growth of his tail.  The most painful part was over, but what remained was more uncomfortable.  Ford fell to his side, groaning.  He could feel his flesh rippling and shrinking, his skin changing.

              After what felt like hours, the lingering pain and discomfort finally faded.  Ford laid on the floor, panting.  He didn’t want to move.

              Angie’s waiting.  She’ll get worried if you don’t communicate with her in some way.  She might even take down another door.  Angie repaired the bathroom door after lunch, requiring only a bit of help, as she couldn’t reach the top hinge well.  Ford slowly, effortfully, got to his feet and traipsed over to the door.  He stood on his hind legs, using his tail to balance so that he could turn the doorknob.  To his relief, the door swung open with ease.

              “Stanford?” Angie called from downstairs.

              “I’m coming,” Ford squeaked.  His high-pitched voice was quieter than he expected.  He cleared his throat and tried again.  “I’m coming!”  Staying on his hind legs, Ford clumsily made his way to the stairs.  “Dammit.”  His vision, poor normally, was even worse in this form.  He reached out a paw to steady himself against the wall and, at an agonizingly slow pace, crept downstairs.  By the time he reached the first floor, Angie was already waiting.  “H-hello.”

              “Goodness, I just want to pick ya up and squeeze ya!” Angie burst out.  “Yer too cute, consarnit!”  Ford blushed.  “Okay, now I got that out of my system…”  She crouched down so that she was at his eye-height.  “Why did ya walk on yer hind legs?  Surely walkin’ on all fours would be easier ‘n more comfortable.”

              “I’m fine,” Ford said.  Angie pursed her lips.

              “If that’s what ya want to do, I can’t stop ya.  Now, come on over with me.  I’ve got all my equipment ready.”  Angie stood to her full height and walked into the living room.  Ford followed her, continuing to walk on two legs.  In the living room, Angie had placed a mat on the floor, which she directed Ford to stand on.  She sat cross-legged in front of him and began to take measurements.  When she measured the length of his external gills, her fingers brushed up against one.  The gill instinctively twitched.  Angie paused.

              “What?”

              “Did ya do that on purpose?”

              “No, it was a reflex.”

              “…Can ya do it on purpose?”

              “I don’t know.  I’ve never tried.”

              “Would ya mind tryin’ fer me?” Angie asked.

              “Um…”

              “Maybe next time,” Angie said, smoothly moving on.  Ford let out a small sigh of relief.  He wasn’t opposed to trying to move his gills on purpose, but he was feeling an extremely high level of anxiety.

              Even if I can move it, I doubt I could while being studied so intensely.  Angie continued to take her measurements, jotting each one down in her notebook.

              “There’s that done,” she said softly, setting the measuring tape aside.  She smiled at Ford.  “If you want, you can sit down.  I don’t need ya standin’ fer this next part.”  Ford gladly sat down, being careful to move his tail to the side so it wasn’t directly under him.

              “Now what?” he asked.

              “I’m just goin’ to make some qualitative notes on yer appearance,” Angie said.  She picked up Ford’s tail and gently ran her fingers along his fin.  “Texture, color, things of that nature.”

              “And then?”

              “Then I figured we could do some tests.  Walkin’, runnin’, checkin’ yer vision,” Angie rattled off.  She got up and walked around to look at Ford’s back.  He shivered as she traced her finger down his spine.  “I’m treatin’ this like the annual check-up ya get at the doctor’s.  It’ll give us a lot of data.”  Angie sighed heavily.  “I ain’t quite sure what to do with all the data, but that’s somethin’ we can discuss together.”  Ford nodded.  “After I’m done gettin’ measurements ‘n whatnot, I figure we’ll talk about yer experiences since becomin’ this critter.”

              “That sounds like a good idea,” Ford said.  He yawned widely.  He was still a bit tired from the previous night.

              “Oh!  Could ya open yer mouth again so’s I can look?” Angie asked eagerly.

              “Okay.”  Angie came around to Ford’s front again.  Ford opened his mouth.  Angie grabbed a small flashlight and shone it into his mouth, a look of concentration and curiosity on her face.  A look that Ford recognized as one he made on a regular basis.

              Is this how I act around the anomalies of Gravity Falls?  Angie muttered something under her breath and scribbled in her notebook.  Sweet Moses.

-----

              An alarm clock was going off somewhere.  Ford reluctantly opened his eyes, blinking away a crusty film that had formed while he slept.  Angie was slumped over, fast asleep, a few feet away, still in her now thoroughly wrinkled overalls and yellow T-shirt.  She even held a pencil limply in one hand.  Ford pushed himself up into a seated position.

              Shit.  We must have fallen asleep while discussing Angie’s observations.  He shivered.  Why am I so cold?  Angie grumbled something and sat up as well.  Their eyes met.  Angie’s gaze briefly dipped south before rocketing back up, her face beet red.  Ford suddenly realized why he was cold.  I am not wearing a single stitch of clothing.

              “I, um, I will go get dressed,” Ford stammered.  He stood up.  Angie’s face turned even redder.  She quickly looked away.  Ford turned around and bolted out of the living room.  As he dressed, he desperately tried to tamp down his embarrassment and humiliation at Angie seeing him completely nude.

              She was flustered by it as well.  Just like me, she’ll want to move on from it without any discussion.  Ford pulled on a turtleneck sweater, hoping it would stifle his shivers.  However, even fully clothed, he was still cold.  Ugh.  I hope I’m not getting sick.  He shrugged off the concern and returned downstairs.

              Angie was leaning against the wall, paging through her notebook, a thoughtful expression on her face.  Ford coughed quietly.  She looked up, smiled, and tucked her notebook under one arm.

              “I was just goin’ over some of my notes,” she chirped.  “I figure we can discuss ‘em durin’ breakfast?”  Ford nodded, relieved.

              As I hoped, Angie would like to avoid mentioning my nudity earlier as well.  He wiped his suddenly sweaty forehead.  Spots danced in front of his eyes.

              “So!” Angie said.  “What do ya want fer breakfast?”  Ford opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, his vision went completely black.

-----

              Ford awoke to the smell of something cooking in the kitchen.  He slowly pushed himself up into a seated position and took stock of where he was.  He was laying on the couch in the living room, a thick blanket gently laid on top of him.  There was a pillow where his head had just been resting.

              Angie must have moved me to the couch after I…wait, did I pass out?  But why?  Ford pressed a hand against his forehead, suddenly aware of a raging headache.  Why do I feel so horrible?

              “I left some water fer ya!” Angie called from the kitchen.  Ford looked over at the dinosaur skull he had repurposed as an end table.  Sure enough, a glass of water sat on it.  He picked up the glass, ignoring the dull, deep ache permeating through his entire body, and downed the entire drink.  “I would’ve liked a heads up that he’s so good at pushin’ himself to fallin’ down,” Angie continued.  Ford frowned, confused.  “Oh, hush.  I ain’t that bad.”  There was a pause.  “No, even ‘fore grad school I was better ‘n he is!”

              Oh.  She’s on the phone.  Presumably with F.  Ford leaned back and closed his eyes.  His head continued to throb painfully.  After a few minutes, he heard Angie hang up the phone and enter the living room.  He opened his eyes again.  She stood by the side of the couch, dressed in clean clothes and carrying a bowl in her hands.  Steam rose from it, along with a tantalizing smell.

              “I was awful shocked to see ya go down like that,” Angie remarked.  “Reminded me of the time a diabetic collapsed against me at the DMV.  But at least ya didn’t take me down with ya.”  She set the bowl down on the end table.  “I whipped up some vegetable soup.  Chicken is, in my opinion, more healin’, but we didn’t have any, and I didn’t want to leave ya alone to go shoppin’.”

              “Thank you,” Ford croaked.  He picked up the bowl and took a sip from it.  Like everything Angie made, it was delicious.  Angie frowned.

              “Ya sound awful!”

              “…Thanks.”

              “You know what I mean,” Angie scoffed.  “Sounds like ya were garglin’ with rocks.”

              “It feels like it, too.”

              “What happened?”

              “I’m not quite sure.”

              “I was just talkin’ to Fidds on the phone.  He told me ya have a tendency to push yourself too hard.  But it didn’t seem like ya pushed yourself too much recently.  Unless…”  Angie trailed off.  Ford looked at her curiously.

              “Unless what?” he asked.

              “Well…”  Angie sat at the end of the couch.  Ford made room for her.  “When we first woke up, I noticed somethin’ that ya tend to cover up with yer clothes.”  Ford felt his face promptly burn.  He quickly took another long drink of the soup to avoid eye contact with her.  Angie’s eyes widened.  “Not- not that!  No, I just- ya seem awfully scrawny to me.  Have ya been eatin’ right?”

              “I…”  Ford set the bowl in his lap and rubbed the back of his neck.  “I have lost some weight,” he confessed.  “Since I developed this…condition, my tastes seem to have changed.  Much of what I used to enjoy disgusts me, and what I can manage to choke down causes me to vomit roughly a third of the time.”

              “Hmm.”  Angie frowned at the floor.  “Could be that yer gastrointestinal system has been affected, same way yer skin has.  After all, salamanders don’t really eat what humans eat.”

              Great.  Yet another inconvenience with this condition.

              “I doubt that my struggles to find an appropriate diet were the cause of this particular loss of consciousness,” Ford said.  Angie looked at him.  “I’ve been dealing with it for quite some time.”

              “True,” Angie murmured.  She leaned over to rest the back of her hand against Ford’s forehead.  “Ya still feel a bit warm, but not as feverish as ya were when ya first passed out.  Maybe ya just caught a bug of some sort?”

              “Maybe.”

              That doesn’t feel like the right answer, but I don’t know what else it could be.

              “You should prob’ly spend the rest of the day on the couch.  Unless ya feel up fer makin’ yer way to yer proper bed?” Angie suggested.  Ford shook his head.  “Fair enough.”  She smiled sheepishly at him.  “Sorry I could only move ya to the couch.  I’m stronger ‘n I look, but no taller ‘n I seem.  The dif’rence in our heights kept me from takin’ ya to yer room more ‘n the dif’rence in our weights.”

              “It is quite all right.”

              “When ya transform tonight, you’ll be smaller, so’s I can take ya upstairs to the bathroom,” Angie continued.  She got up.  “But fer now, rest up.  I can stay in the livin’ room with ya if you’d like.  Or if ya don’t want anyone ‘round ‘cause ya don’t feel good, well, I can manage that, too.”  She looked at Ford for an answer.  When he didn’t respond, she prompted him.  “Stanford?”

              “I think I know why I became sick,” Ford said softly.  Angie cocked her head at him.

              “Oh?”

              “You mentioned bringing me to the bathtub tonight.”  Ford met Angie’s eyes.  “I spent the entirety of last night outside of the bathtub.”  Angie’s eyes widened.

              “Oh, shoot!”  She slapped her forehead.  “Ya done got dried out!”

              “It would appear so, yes,” Ford said softly.  Angie sighed.

              “Well, at least yer not sick with somethin’ contagious.”  She shook her head.  “Okay, we’ll have to make sure ya stay damp in the future, I guess.  At least while yer in yer amphibious form.”  Ford nodded.  “My question from ‘fore still stands.  Do ya want me to spend the day in the room with ya or go elsewhere?”

              “Um…”

              It’s been how long since I had company while I was sick?  Ford managed a small smile at Angie.

              “I may not be up for conversation, but merely having your presence in the same room would be quite nice,” he replied.  Angie beamed.

              “I’ve always been a proponent of the idea that ya get better faster when someone’s with ya,” she said cheerfully.  She picked up Ford’s empty glass of water.  “I’ll top this off ‘n come back to look over some of the stuff I wrote last night.  You rest up, okay?”

              “I shall do so gladly.”  Ford downed the rest of the soup and set the empty bowl on the end table.  He then spread out on the couch, laid back, and closed his eyes.  There was a soft breeze as Angie passed by him to set his filled glass of water down, then footsteps as she went to the table in the corner of the room.  He opened one eye.  “I heard some of your conversation with Fiddleford.”

              “Did ya?”

              “Yes.  Apparently, you are prone to pushing yourself when you should not?”

              “Not as much anymore.  Had to stop doin’ that in grad school or I would’ve had a heart attack my first year.”

              “Before then, you engaged in that behavior?”

              “Yes.”

              “Interesting,” Ford murmured.  Angie laughed softly.

              “Are ya tryin’ to make me come off as a hypocrite fer pointin’ out ya shouldn’t do it?”

              “No,” Ford lied.  Angie laughed again.

              “Like I said, I don’t do it no more.  But I’ve still got the stubbornness what drove me to push myself past my limits.  And I don’t got any qualms ‘bout usin’ that stubbornness to fight yours.  So close both yer eyes and take a nap, Stanford!”

              Ford chuckled.  He closed his other eye and rolled over so he was facing the back of the couch.  Sleep came quickly.

-----

              “All right, I’m done!” Angie’s voice said.  Ford looked up from the book on amphibians she had lent him.  They were in Eugene, due to her insistence on purchasing supplies that couldn’t be located in Gravity Falls.  Thankfully, Angie had offered that Ford sit outside while she shopped in the specialty soap store.  She held up the shopping bag.  “I got ya plenty of things.”

              “I really don’t need-” Ford started.

              “Just think of ‘em as an early Christmas gift,” Angie said smoothly.  Ford raised an eyebrow.

              “I’m Jewish.”  Angie winced.

              “Then think of it as an early, uh, an early, uh…”  Angie was fumbling for the right words, speechless in a way that Ford had yet to see her.  Recalling how oblivious Fiddleford had been about Judaism when they first met, Ford took pity on her.

              “Hanukkah, perhaps?” he suggested, closing the book on amphibians.  Angie sighed in relief.

              “Yes.  Think of it as an early Hanukkah gift, then.”  Angie rubbed the back of her neck.  “I’m awful sorry, Stanford.  Fidds must’ve mentioned to me you were Jewish, but I plum forgot!”

              “Whether Fiddleford told you or not, I won’t hold it against you,” Ford said.  He stood and handed Angie’s book back to her.  She slipped it into her large purse.

              “I’m glad to hear that.  I didn’t mean to offend-”

              “I’m not offended,” Ford interjected.  Much like her older brother, Angie was perpetually worried about upsetting or offending her friends.

              “I just-”

              “Please, Angie, no need to drag this out.  That wasn’t the first time someone has assumed I am Christian, and it won’t be the last,” Ford said firmly.  Angie nodded.

              “Well, I hope that ya remain unoffended after our next stop,” she said.  Dread began to build in Ford’s gut.

              “Where are we stopping next?” he asked.  Angie smiled nervously.  Instead of answering, she took a few steps forward and opened the door of the adjacent store.  “A pet store?”  Angie nodded and entered the store.  “Do you plan on purchasing a pet?” Ford asked, following her inside.

              I would have liked some warning, but I don’t see how that would offend me.  Angie led Ford to the back of the store.  They stood in a dimly lit corner, surrounded by occupied terrariums filled with moss and logs.  Perhaps she wants to purchase a snake and is worried how I might react?  Another possibility presented itself.  Ford winced.  Sweet Moses, please no.  Anything but that.

              “No, I ain’t purchasin’ any critters,” Angie said slowly.  “I’m purchasin’ stuff fer critters.  Well.  One critter in particular.”  Angie met Ford’s eyes.  “You.”  His stomach plummeted to his feet, his fear realized.

              “No,” he whispered.  Angie nodded.  “Angie, you can’t-”

              “Trust me,” Angie hissed.  “I know what I’m doin’.”

              “You can’t buy items for me here!”

              “I don’t really have any other choice.  They don’t sell mealworms at the grocery store.”

              “Meal-”  Ford cut himself off and shook his head.  Angie used the pause to continue her argument.

              “Like I said, I know what I’m doin’.  I’ve got a degree in this, Stanford!”  She straightened her back firmly, with a confidence that made her very short height seem taller.  “Entertain yourself while I pick ya up some things.”

              “Ugh.  Fine,” Ford muttered, crossing his arms.  Angie playfully punched his shoulder before walking away.

              I hate this.  I hate this!  But…she truly does know what she’s talking about.  The full moon ended a few days ago, and with Ford fully recovered from being “dried out”, he and Angie had gone over her meticulous notes.  There were many instances in which he’d needed her to explain what she had written.  Herpetology truly is not my area of expertise.  I need to defer to her in matters regarding my condition.  Regardless of my personal feelings about it.  Ford took a deep breath.  Seriously, though, is she really going to try to feed me mealworms?

              “Dislike stranger.”  Ford’s head whipped around.  He was alone.

              I could have sworn…

              “Want food.”  Ford quickly zeroed in on where the voice had come from: a tank containing a bullfrog.  He cautiously walked up to it and crouched down to look at the little inhabitant.  The bullfrog eyed him with disdain.  “Dislike stranger,” it croaked again.

              “You- you can talk?” Ford whispered.

              “Strangers bad.”

              “How did you-” Ford started.  The bullfrog turned away and crawled into the log inside its tank.  “No, come back!  Talk to me!”

              A talking bullfrog!  What a charmingly mundane anomaly.  And one Angie would love.  Perhaps we should return to Gravity Falls with a pet.

              “Don’t bother, brother,” another voice said.  This time, it came from a tank to the left of the bullfrog and a bit higher, roughly at Ford’s eye-height.  The inhabitant of the tank was a black axolotl, eyeing Ford with fascination.  “Our tongue is too different from theirs to allow for much intelligent conversation.  Only the basics.”

              “…Our tongue?” Ford whispered.  The axolotl seemed amused.

              “The Salamander Tongue.”  It swam closer to the glass and looked Ford up and down.  “I’ve never seen a salamander like you before.”

              “That’s because I’m- I’m not a salamander,” Ford said quietly.  The axolotl cocked its head in a gesture that, oddly, reminded Ford of Angie and Fiddleford.  “Or, at least, I’m not usually one.”

              “Hmm.  I thought there seemed something odder about you than your shape,” the axolotl remarked.

              “What do you mean?” Ford asked.  The axolotl shrugged.

              “It’s difficult to put to an actual word.  I just have this feeling that, even if you looked like me, you’d seem different.  You’re a strange one.  Aren’t you?”

              “Many people have described me in that way.”

              “It’s the best way to be,” the axolotl said cheerfully.  The genuine tone made Ford smile.

              “Do you- could you have any idea why I am the way I am?” Ford asked, unable to keep desperation from spilling into his voice.  “I wasn’t always like this.  And like I said, I don’t take a salamander’s form often.  Just a few times each month.”

              “I’m not well-versed on magic, though many of us axolotls are.”  The axolotl stood a bit prouder.  “Our species tends to have innate magical abilities.”

              “Fascinating.”

              “Yes.  But because I’m not particularly skilled at magic, I don’t have any answers for you, brother.”

              “Oh.  I see.”

              “I can tell you something, however,” the axolotl said.  Ford perked up.  “Whether you take the shape of one of us or one of them, you are always one of us.  I can sense it.  Your being is salamander.  Not human.”  Ice spread through Ford’s veins.

              “Mom, look, look!”  A child sprinted into the corner, his beleaguered mother behind him.  The child pressed his face against the glass of a tank containing a tarantula.  “I want it!”  While the weary woman explained to her son that she wouldn’t purchase the tarantula, Ford placed his hand against the glass of the axolotl’s tank.  The axolotl placed one of its own tiny hands on the glass as well.  He smiled weakly at the salamander.

              “Stanford?”  Ford looked over his shoulder.  Angie had returned, carrying bags covered in the store’s logo.  “I’m all done.  We can head home.”

              “Ah.  Yes.”  Ford followed Angie out of the store.  He put his hands in his pants pockets as they walked past the storefronts of the strip mall.  “What did you purchase?”

              “All sorts of goodies.  Mostly worms ‘n crickets.”

              “You do realize that, even in my other form, they will be so small that the entire supply would be one or two meals,” Ford said.

              “I’ve read through that Journal of yours,” Angie said.  She grinned crookedly.  “Those size-changin’ crystals will help the bugs last us a while.”

              “Oh.  That’s quite clever.”

              “Thank you!  I also got ya some supplements.”

              “Supplements?”

              “Some amphibians and reptiles need extra calcium or things like that ‘cause their diet don’t simulate what they’d have in nature well enough.  I think it’d be a good idea to do the same fer you.  Just to see if it helps ya feel better.  If not, we don’t need to keep doin’ it.”

              “That sounds reasonable,” Ford replied.  He frowned.  “How do they taste?”

              “…I have no idea.”

              “You’ve never asked a salamander about that?” he teased.  Angie laughed.

              “I have, but I ain’t ever gotten an answer.  After all, they can’t quite talk.”

              “Maybe you just can’t understand their language,” Ford said.

              “Oh, and you can?”

              “Well…”

              “No!” Angie gasped.  She grabbed his arm.  “Stanford, you can understand salamanders?!”

              “Not so loud,” Ford hissed.  He grinned.  “But, yes.  Though I didn’t discover until today.”  Angie let out a squeal of delight.

              “Tell.  Me.  Everything!”

              “Gladly.”

-----

              When the man and woman got into their car, Melvin quickly backtracked, retreating to the closest pay phone.  The man and woman had been quiet enough to keep most people from overhearing them.  But Melvin wasn’t most people.  When he heard the woman’s initial squeal, he paid attention to the rest of the hushed conversation, following close behind the entire time.

              He was rewarded for his thoroughness.  The man was apparently harboring a magical secret.  A secret that one of Melvin’s clients would be interested in.  Getting his hands on the man would be easy enough.  But he would need someone else to do the transportation.  Luckily, he knew just the money-desperate soul for the job.

              Melvin put coins into the payphone and dialed the number.  After a few rings, the person on the other end picked up.

“Stan Pines.”

#Gravity Falls #Gravity Falls AU #Axolotl Ford AU #Stanford Pines #Angie McGucket #fanfiction #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

[ninjastormhawkkat]

Ngl I kinda had an idea at one point

Where Angie was just around preportal incident helping the portal get build. XD

Fiddleford was wondering who this person was helping them out

And stanford just slipped out and said "oh uh Angie is my daughter"

He didn't question it

💀Im wheezing remembering that old idea

lol yes Ford just says it so bluntly. Angie

Fiddleford

#gravity falls #gravity falls oc #friend's oc #angie #fiddleford mcgucket #stanford pines #melodythebunny #answered ask

[melodythebunny]

Guys this is TOTALLY CANON And how it happened in the show bc Alex Hirsch told me so u-u

Jokes aside. This is a redraw of a comic that was once upon a time on my blog. I can't remember all of the details but this is the part I remember the most. Yea I still regret deleting my old art. 13 year old me had a good ideas ;A;

Someday ill reboot all my older ocs.

Im still in the word girl fandom. I just needed to get this imagery put of my head and onto a drawing. And had to borrow.my.sister's laptop tp.draw on MS paint like the original one was drawn on.

All in celebration to 400+ followers :333

#joke post #joke doodle #Redraw #gravity falls #my art #ms paint #crack post #my doodles #My oc #gravity falls oc #Angie Dexterity #stanford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #my art has improved in some places #actually compared to five years ago... #I would say alot of.places #gravity falls au #bill cipher

[ao3feed-twiyor]

Omniscient Academy

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/fKbnGov by PlanetaryProblem, Rant_Aro “ Nakime has gathered all of the staff in her office. “Okay. What should we name this academy?” “Howza ‘bout we name it Tomfoolery Academy?” Stan sipped some cola. “Eh, sounds boring.” Tengen crossed his arms. “What about ‘The Academy of Flamboyance?’” “Absolutely not.” Fiddleford shook his head. “We should name it somethin’ meanin’-ful.” “Oh! So Meaningful Academy it is!” Kyojuro laughed, completely serious. Kaigaku facepalmed. “We’re stuck with a bunch of idiots, Gyomei-nii.” “That’s not what I—…” Fiddleford facepalmed. “I suggest we name it something that means knowledgeable.” Ratio said. Gyomei hummed. “I see. What about ‘Omniscient’, all-knowing? Omniscient Academy has a nice ring to it.” Shinobu sighed in relief. “Finally, a good school name.” “That sounds nice.” Stanford nodded. “Let’s keep it that way.” “ OR WELCOME TO OMNISCIENT ACADEMY! Full of the weird, angst, and the crack (most definitely the angst and crack)! Rated T for Teens due to uncensored swearing and violence Words: 3525, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Series: Part 1 of Brain Rot School/Mafia Au Fandoms: Gravity Falls, 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Manga), 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Anime), 約束のネバーランド | Yakusoku no Neverland | The Promised Neverland (Manga), OMORI (Video Game), 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game), 崩��：星穹铁道 | Honkai: Star Rail (Video Game), SPY x FAMILY (Anime), A Hat in Time (Video Game), Dangan Ronpa Series, Original Work Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: Multi Characters: Stan Pines, Ford Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket, Mabel Pines, Dipper Pines, Loid Forger | Twilight, Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Sunny (OMORI), Kel (OMORI), Basil (OMORI), Aubrey (OMORI), Hero (OMORI), Mari (OMORI), Snatcher (A Hat in Time), Queen Vanessa (A Hat In Time), Jesus "Soos" Alzamirano Ramirez, Uzui Tengen, Yonaga Angie, Douma (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Himejima Gyoumei, Kaigaku (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Kochou Kanae, Kochou Shinobu, Tamayo (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Rengoku Kyoujurou, Kamado Tanjirou, Agatsuma Zenitsu, Kanroji Mitsuri, Kanzaki Aoi (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Dr. Ratio (Honkai: Star Rail), March 7th (Honkai: Star Rail), Emma (The Promised Neverland), Lucas (The Promised Neverland), Ray (The Promised Neverland), Gilda (The Promised Neverland), Fujisaki Chihiro, Candy Chiu, Grenda (Gravity Falls), Tokitou Yuichirou, Sabito (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Tojo Kirumi, Hashibira Inosuke, Anya Forger, Other Character Tags to Be Added, Kamado Nezuko, Dori (Genshin Impact), Kibutsuji Muzan, Bill Cipher, Minor Original Character(s) - Character, Nakime (Kimetsu no Yaiba) Relationships: Everyone & Everyone, Loid Forger | Twilight/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess, Sunny/Zenitsu, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Snatcher/Queen Vanessa (A Hat in Time), Pacifica Northwest/Dipper Pines, Fiddleford H. McGucket/Stan Pines Additional Tags: Way too many character tags help us, How Do I Tag, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Crack Treated Seriously read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/fKbnGov

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #twiyor #spy x family #sxf #loid forger #yor forger

[haberdashing]

An Unlikely Reunion

In an Anastasia AU, Angie and Lute McGucket reunite.

on AO3

Lute was not in the best of moods this afternoon. He had been rushed away from the royal residence-in-exile to go meet some woman who was claiming to be his little sister, and just as he had been about to arrive, had been told that the meeting was abruptly cancelled. It wasn’t the meeting’s cancellation that bothered him–he’d had enough imposters of his little sister come by to last a lifetime–but how what had been a promising day for relaxation was now ruined, and for nothing.

Still, bad mood or not, a prince doesn’t easily forget his manners, and when a young woman with honey-blonde hair approached him while sobbing ungracefully, Lute didn’t hesitate to help the poor woman out.

“Are you alright, madame?”

“I… I don’t know…” The woman shook her head before adding, clearly trying to suppress her sobs as she spoke. “I suppose it depends on what you mean by ‘alright.’”

“...care for a handkerchief and a stranger to listen to your woes, then?”

The woman snorted in amusement, which made a bubble of snot land on the ground. She was dressed nicely enough, but just the same, elegance didn’t seem to be her strong suit. “Sure, I might as well. Thank you.”

“Any time.” Lute offered the woman a handkerchief, which she accepted and began using to clean her face immediately, and the two walked together to a nearby bench and sat down there side by side.

“So, what’s wrong?”

“I just… I’ve been trying to find my family for so long, and now I’ve gotten close, and… and nothing. Not unless I want to wander all of Paris looking for them, anyway. If they’re even in Paris.”

Lute hummed to himself in quiet agreement. “I know the feeling. My family’s been split apart, too. It seems like that’s gotten all too common these days, with all the unrest that’s been happening in the world lately…”

“Yeah, you’re not wrong about that. And I’m sorry to hear that you’re in the same boat. I mean, I always kind of figured it was a lost cause in my case, but… well…”

“That doesn’t make it any easier, does it? You’ll always have that last little bit of hope.”

The woman let out a noise that was somewhere in between a sob and a laugh. “God, ain’t that the truth. I’ll always wonder what happened back then, even when my dreams of finding out the truth are getting crushed by the real world. Maybe it was naive of me to think that I could find out what happened, find one family in a city as big as Paris, and things would work out perfectly just like they do in storybooks…”

The woman stopped dabbing at her face with the handkerchief and instead crushed it in between her hands. She shook her head for a moment before looking up at Lute…

…and of all the imposters Lute had seen in the decade since losing his kid sister, he’d never seen anyone who looked quite as much as his lost Banji as this woman did.

“No.” Lute breathed. “No, I don’t think that was naive of you at all.”

“You’re too kind.” She patted at her face once more, hard enough that Lute was pretty sure her nose was real and not just a cheap prosthesis–apparently the McGucket nose was something that all the frauds hoping to claim the reward money knew to imitate one way or another, which was more than a little insulting, really. “Really, a girl like me shouldn’t be laying all her troubles on someone as nice-looking as you. Though I can probably trust you more than the last guy I thought I could trust… not that that’s saying much.” The noise she made was definitely meant to be a laugh this time, though it fell a little short of the mark.

“You’re fine. Honestly, I’m enjoying hearing what you have to say. You said you came to Paris to find your family–where are you from originally?”

“What, you want more peasant girl gossip?” The girl laughed a little at her own joke, and this one sounded almost genuine. “Well, alright. I’m originally from a little town in Russia–don’t even ask the name, trust me, everybody butchers it and nobody’s heard of the place. But I came here from St. Petersburg–going there might’ve been my first mistake, really–and so did Daisy here.”

Lute honestly hadn’t noticed the little dog that was following the woman around until she gestured towards the pet. “Daisy?”

“Yeah. She’s a stray–like myself, I suppose. I named her after my favorite flower. Daisies are so bright and sunny… I’d like to think I’m the same way, but I’m not even sure who I really am anymore.”

Banji had always liked daisies, too. She kept picking them out of the palace gardens and pressing them into her books. Maybe the similar face really was more than a coincidence…

“How did you get here? Boat, plane, train…?”

“A mix, really. It’s funny, I almost fell off the boat I was on, and yet I still hate trains more than boats. Something about trains just gives me the willies, always has since I was a little girl.”

Sally had always said that Banji fell off of the train, that she just barely hadn’t caught her daughter’s hand in time…

This time, Lute offered up something that he knew was a trap, though he wouldn’t be heartbroken if the offer was taken to be genuine, either. “Do you want to come have tea with me? I know you said you’re just a peasant girl–perhaps you’d want to try your first bite of caviar? It would be my pleasure.”

The woman–Lute tried not to think of her as Banji–wrinkled her nose in disgust. “That’s very nice of you to offer, but I’ve never cared for caviar. It’s funny, I’m fine with steak or chicken, but when it’s fish, frogs, lizards… I’d rather watch critters like that squirm around in the wild than eat them.”

Lute had known that Banji didn’t like caviar–she’d spit them out when she’d first tried them, and later attempts at getting her to eat them were only marginally more successful–but with the mention of critters, Lute remembered the one time a frog had gotten into the palace, how Banji had beamed with delight and followed the amphibian around while many other residents were doing everything in their power to avoid the creature.

“Besides, though you’ve been very sweet to this stranger in need, I don’t even know your name.”

“I don’t know yours, either.” Lute retorted before he could stop himself.

“Oh, it’s Angela–Angie for short. Last name’s… more complicated, I always dreamed I’d get my real one when I found my family, or at least remember what my family name used to be, or else I’d get adopted and take my new family’s name, but no dice there. There’s something listed for it on my paperwork, but I’ve never liked it much anyway.”

Angie sounded a lot like Banji, enough that the similarity had come up even in the royal household, and Angela was a common enough name to be gotten from Angie. Had Banji forgotten everything–including, apparently, not only being royalty, but even her family name–after falling from the train, and been given a new name by whoever found her? And if so, then she’d been raised as a peasant girl, hoping fruitlessly to get adopted over the years… if that were true, it was a sad story indeed.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Angie. My name is Lute.”

“Luke, you said?”

Lute grimaced slightly, but didn’t correct her. Her genuine reaction to hearing his name mattered more right now than his frustration at having his name get confused with a more commonplace one once again.

“I’ve always liked the name Luke… come to think of it…” Angie closed her eyes, humming softly to herself and rubbing one hand against Daisy’s fur. “I think I used to play hide-and-seek with somebody named Luke.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, he… he kept trying to hide behind the curtains, but he wasn’t quite skinny enough for it. The curtains would always bulge out when he was hiding behind them. I… I think Luke was his name, but it’s hard to remember...”

…that had been Lute’s hiding place as a child, when he’d played hide-and-seek with his sister.

“And you? Where did you hide?”

Angie opened her eyes, which were the same color as Banji’s had been. “Oh, under big furniture, mostly. Under beds, tables, desks… anywhere I could squeeze myself under that most kids wouldn’t even think to try. I was small back then, too; it has its advantages.”

…and that had been Banji’s modus operandi when playing.

“But you can’t really want to hear me blather on about my childhood like this, right? Thank you for helping calm me down some, but I’m sure we’d both better get going.”

Lute nodded dumbly; he wanted to stay and talk to this mysterious Angie more, but he knew his manners well enough, knew when he was being told that it was time to leave.

“If you insist. But really, miss Angie, it has been a pleasure getting to know you.”

As Lute stood up, Angie shot him a sad, sweet smile. “Right back atcha.”

#personal #my writing #gravity falls #angie mcgucket #lute mcgucket

[vulpixen]

I know I have been mostly quiet due to life stuff, but I’m still around and have been taking care of things. In between I have written drabbles inspired by @thelastspeecher and @darfichihrenhundstreicheln ‘s aus. Including the ones we and @haberdashing @bluestuffeh and @nour386 have had lots of talks about in discord. 

I have written drabbles about my interpretation of Wendy’s mom and Dan’s late wife Bethany Hickok-Corduroy that I’ll be glad to share with everyone. 

The first drabble takes place in an au of an au called Angiewolf AU, but in this version called Dimensional Wolves, Stan and Angie disappear due to a mishap with the portal they’ve been trying to repair for six years after Ford was pushed into the portal. Now, it’s up to Dan and his wife to look after their kids Molly (of whom belongs to @agent-jaselin ) Danny, Daisy, Emmett, Emily, Caleb and Cadenza. Including young Tate as well for the next ten years until the parents and Ford return home. And in this, Mrs. Corduroy is a werewolf but not Dan. This drabble takes place not long after Stan and Angie disappeared and inspired from the song ‘Somewhere Out There’. Hope you all enjoy!

___________________________________________________________

It was almost quiet in the wooden home where eight young children were asleep in their respective beds in their shared room. Except for one of the triplet girls, age eight, with brown hair named Molly. She knew it was the perfect time to make her escape from the house as she carefully placed enough plastic play boxes right under the window that lead outside. Doing her best to be quiet, Molly climbs up the boxes, and opens the window on her own. Molly smiles as she smells the night air, closing the window behind her, leaving behind her triplet sisters, Danny, Daisy and the younger quadruplets, Cadenza, Emmett, Emory, and Caleb, along with her cousin Tate.

Molly was on a mission: to find her missing parents when she feels she could not rely on her caregivers to do it. She changes into a wolf and scurries into the night of the forest.

In the master bedroom, the young adults at age twenty, Dan Corduroy and his wife Bethany Hickok-Corduroy were doing their best to get what sleep they can after patrolling the territory that Angie once did a few months ago, before her and her husband Stan seemed to vanish without a trace and left behind all their children and everything else.

Dan loudly snores, but Bethany was sound asleep. That is until a stray goose feather sticking out of the pillow tickles the young woman’s nose, causing her to rise and sneeze so loud, it woke up Dan as he yelps.

“AHHH!” Dan lets out a tired sigh. “Oh, it’s only you, Sunflower. Real big sneeze there.” He lightly pats Bethany’s dark red head, her long hair reaching down to her lower back.

“These pokey goose feather pillows aren’t doing it for me.” Bethany lets out a big yawn.

“Here, I’ll switch with you, hun,” offers Dan, switching his cotton stuffed pillow for her goose feather one.

Bethany shows a content smile as she goes back to resting her head, mumbling, “You’re the best, my Manly Man…”

Their moment of quiet was disturbed when a small but audible pounding was heard at the door. Two small voices crying out.

“Dan! Bethany! You gotta help!” Those voices being Danny and Daisy panicking.

Dan and Bethany immediately leave the bed and open the door to see the worried kids in front of them.

“Girls, what happened?” asks Dan as he knelt to their height.

“It’s Molly!” starts Daisy.

“She’s gone!” finishes Danny.

The couple’s eyes widen, afraid of what could have happened to Molly while running through many worse case scenarios within seconds. They knew the little girl was acting out, not having adjusted well since Stan and Angie disappeared and been defensive and snappy towards Dan and Bethany. Molly needing time to adjust to the sudden change like all of them are.

“Wait, what?” Bethany then asking. “Girls, what happened?”

“We saw the blocks and… I think she opened the window and left,” frowns Daisy as she and Danny lead their caregivers to their room with the rest of the younger kids. “I think I know why…”

“To find your parents,” mutters Bethany, briefly looking to the unlocked window and the moonlight shining through the glass, her expression crestfallen thinking back to Molly’s outburst from earlier she screamed she hated her and Dan for not having looked hard enough. Bethany knew she was just upset for how long her parents have been gone, but it still stung her heart. Her and Dan have been doing the best they can for the kids.

The quadruplets were now awake and upset to having been woken late at night. Tate whimpering in his own bed. Dan immediately scoops up the boy and the toddlers in his big arms and sits with them on one of the small beds to console them.

“Shh, shh… All ya get back to sleep. Bethany is gonna find Molly and bring her home.” Dan speaks in a much softer voice than normal. “How ‘bout I tell you all a story?” This got the toddlers and Tate smiling, even a little. Dan gives a nod to his wife, able to handle the younger kids while Bethany, Danny and Daisy ran out the front door.

Bethany did not protest Danny and Daisy coming with her, figuring they want to help find their triplet sister before something or someone were to find Molly before they do. She does not blame them one bit.

Bethany shifts into her tall, dark red furred wolf form as she bounds into the forest, catching Molly’s scent as Danny and Daisy changed into their own brown wolf forms in following their caregiver, but with their short legs, they couldn’t keep up with the grown wolf. Seeing this, Bethany allows the two girls onto her back to ride.

Meanwhile, Molly was having no luck in sniffing out for her parents in the known places in the forest she remembers taking her and her sisters to. In her wolf form, she scratches at the ground, leaving deep marks within the grass and leaves in frustration and screams at the sky.

“HOW IS IT THIS HARD TO FIND THEM?!” Molly lets out an audible howl that makes the birds in the nearby trees fly off in fright. “MOM! DAD! WHERE ARE YOU?! … Why did you leave us… why did you leave me?”  

Molly keeps digging at the ground for no reason but to vent the grief, inner pain, and anger at herself in believing she failed her parents and those around her failed them too. At this moment, despite having been taught not to make too much noise at night alone, she paid not heed as she wails and sheds streams of tears from her eyes and the mucus from her nose dripping. She gets dirt on her face while lying her head in the patch she made in the ground, choking up.

Molly hears the rustling of bushes nearby; she hiccups and becomes alert to the new presence and scent. She was not alone. From within the bushes she can see in the dark was a tall, rogue grey werewolf approaching her, showing his fangs and fur raised at the young pup before him. Molly’s eyes widened in fear, immediately changing into her wolf form, hoping it would make the rogue least likely to attack her now.

The grey werewolf pauses, seeing Molly was a werewolf, but it did not fully stop him from going after her, smelling she is one of the Mother Wolf’s pups he can tell. Him having been persistent for over a year in claiming the territory for himself and his own pack he aims to have. Starting with driving off the pup.

Molly mentally screams at herself to run away and does so while the older werewolf gives chase. The pup zigzagging, running through the woods and into a small hollow tree where the werewolf was biting and clawing away wood to reach her. When the rogue manages to stick his head through the trunk to snap at Molly, she musters up the courage and bites at his snout, causing him to yelp and back away, drawing blood.

Before the rogue could think about going after the pup, he was in for a world of hurt when he feels sharp teeth of a tall red wolf grip around his neck, not piercing through, but it still stung.

“GET AWAY FROM HER, YOU BITCH!” Bethany’s inner thoughts roared in her head as she was about to make the rogue regret ever stepping foot into Angie’s territory.

Bethany hits the wolf hard against a nearby tree several times until the tree snapped in half and flung the hapless werewolf out into the deeper woods through the air. She lets out a victorious howl, letting all know who the new alpha of Angie’s territory is until her return one day. She sniffs the area to find Molly coming up to her and her sisters who ran up to them when it was safe again.

Bethany reverts to her human self as she knelt to hug Molly in a tight embrace as did Danny and Daisy to their sister, having been scared for her safety.

“Molly!” cheer Daisy and Danny.

Molly breaks down into tears again, choking up. “I’m… I’m sorry! I’m sorry I ran off and almost got hurt… I wanted to find Mom and Dad and… I can’t find them. I didn’t mean it when I said I hated you and Dan… Are you mad at me?”

“I’m only glad you’re not hurt. I was so scared you’d end up harmed or worse by that rogue, Molly.” Bethany’s tone was soft, not angry for what Molly did. She knows she is hurting like everyone else has been since Stan and Angie have been gone. “We know you’re just upset, kiddo. Me and Dan are sorry we can’t find them.”

“It was still pretty mean to say,” acknowledges Danny about what Molly said from earlier, shuffling her feet in place. “I miss our parents too, but if we can’t find them here, then they must be somewhere else.” “Maybe they’re lost, too,” adds in Daisy.

Bethany lets out a short breath, taking a brief pause to look towards the sky before focusing back on the girls. “Me and Dan may or may not have an idea of where they could be.” The triplet girls face Bethany with their full attention. “There’s something me and Dan will tell you in the morning, and about what we’re going to do for all you kids, but you girls need your sleep.”

The triplets let out a collected “Ah, man…” before they comply with Bethany, returning home with hours to spare before the sunrise. On the way, Molly eyes up the starry night sky, wondering if her parents are looking at the same stars like in a song she heard recently.

Somewhere out in the multiverse, Angie and Stan look at the stars in silent contemplation, wondering when and if they will ever get home and hug each one of their children again.

#stangie #angiewolf au #vulpixen writes #vulpixen drabbles #thelastspeecher #stan pines #angie mcgucket #dan corduroy #dimensional wolves au #mrs. corduroy #ficlet

[agent-jaselin]

I was thinking Stangie in my Superhero/villain AU? If you’d like specifics, maybe them on a park date or in the hospital on the day Danny and Daisy are born?

the lone Mcgucket watches from afar

#stan pines #angie mcgucket #gravity falls #my art #memes

[brightdrawings]

Stanford McGucket (3/?)  Fitting in

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Stanford messed up his brother’s chances of getting a scholarship and is now living out of the local library. Surviving with little to no plan Until a kind Southern couple offer him a chance to start over.

(an au of @thelastspeecher‘s Stanely McGucket au)

 Also on ao3!

“And after Bessie comes Buttercup, Bertha, Bob, Billy, Bethany, and Bella.” Angie said.  She pointed out each cow as she spoke. She had an arm draped on Bessie’s neck, the other held the fence of the pasture. Her legs kicked as she sat from her perch on top of the fence.

“I feel like there’s a story behind those names,” Stanford yawned. He wiped the sleep from his eyes and leaned against the fence.

“It’s nothing too amazing,” Angie said. “Ma just named her first heifer Bluebell and the first-er- darn it.”

“What’s the matter?” Stanford asked. He looked away from the grazing cows to face Angie.

“I forgot the word for like a boy cow, but like Brandon wasn’t a bull, ‘cause he was castrated, there’s a word for a cow when they’re like that,” Angie said. She snapped her fingers as she thought. “It’s like-the only thing that’s comin’ to my mind is that it’s close to the word for like guiding something.”

“Er-lead?” Stanford offered.

“Nah-they weren’t dogs,” she said. Her fingers lightly drummed on Bessie’s neck.

“Um-hmm herd-no that doesn’t sound right.”

“No it like starts with-oh that’s it!” Angie said excitedly. “It was Steer! Brandon was her first steer! The first two cows were named Brandon and Bluebell.”

“Brandon and Bluebell?” Stanford asked, “and ever since then your family signed a secret pact to name every cow you come to own from then to the end of time a name beginning with ‘B’?”

“Wouldn’t call it a pact, but we do find it funny,” Angie replied. She lightly patted Bessie’s snout. “You could say it’s an inside joke.”

“Yes that would be a more reasonable description,” Stanford agreed.

“So as I was saying, when you get used to waking up earlier. We’ll start getting you to help with milking the beautiful dames of this pasture.” Angie said. “Now let’s go see the horses.”

“You don’t have to worry about me, I’ll get used to waking up early soon enough.” Stanford assured. He tried and failed to stifle a yawn. “If I’m going to be a farm hand worth his salt I’ll need to get used to early mornings in any case.”

“Worth your salt?” Angie asked. She hopped off her perch and stood next to Stanford.

“In the days before currency was measured in metal and paper, it was often measured in spices. And salt was considered very-uh-pricey? No um-it was considered to have a lot of worth. So soldiers that were paid in salt had to work very hard so that they could be considered ‘worth their salt.’” Stanford explained.

“Wow really? I didn’t know that. I thought money was always a thing that people used, just changing like. Shiny rocks for us, less shiny rocks for the people before us, and so on.” Angie said. She led the way to the barn.

“You aren’t wrong, it’s just that-well you know how when someone does a job they’re paid in money?” Stanford said, rolling his hands as he spoke.

“Yes. That’s how jobs normally work.” Angie replied.

“And how you can exchange the money you earn for good and services?” Stanford asked.

“Services?” Angie asked.

“Getting your hair cut and visiting the carnival,” Ford explained. “Well sometimes people skip the middleman of the money and give their employees the food and services directly.”

“Like when Ma and Pa let me and my sibs have as many apples as we want after we help with harvest?” Angie asked.

“Yes exactly.” Stanford said happily. “And other times, with that salt example I gave earlier, they add another step to collecting the money. A more modern equivalent would be paying someone with a cheque.”

“’Cause those have to be traded in at the bank?”

“You catch on fast.” Stanford said.

“I wouldn’t be in junior year if I couldn’t.” Angie grinned back.

“Juni-but you’re two years younger than Lute. That wouldn’t make sense unless-you skipped a grade?”  

“Yep!” Angie said grinning proudly.

“That’s impressive” Stanford said. He ignored the twist in his stomach. “You must have done a lot of studying.”

“It wasn’t too much trouble, the fact that I had had so many siblings that went through the same curriculum before me is what gave me the boost to get so far ahead.” Angie said. “I’d sometimes sit with Fidds and Lute to help them their work.”

“Really?” Stanford said. He could feel his jaw loosen, ready to slam into his toes.

“More like be a wall for them to bounce ideas off of,” Angie admitted. She skipped to the barn door. “You shoulda seen the way their eyes light up when they figure out the solution to whatever math problem had been holding them back.”

“Oh-still, that’s a rather useful thing to do. I’d imagine having someone to talk to about a problem would help straighten out one’s thoughts.” Stanford followed her to the barn door.

“Yeah ‘cause they’d have to explain what the problem was in the first place, so I’d be getting tutoring for things I was going to learn later down the road real early. And by the time they explained the whole thing they’d either have already figured out a solution or would be halfway there.”

“Sounds like you’re a natural helper. Which brother would chase you out of the room for annoying him?” Stanford said. His mouth quirked up into a mischievous grin.

“Stanford how could you possibly imply such a thing?” Angie gasped in mock offence. “I’m renowned as the family angel, why would I do such a thing to my beloved brothers?”

“Laying it on a little thick aren’t you?”

“The skit’s still a work-in-progress. And to answer your question, both. Fidds more than Lute, but that was because he gets stressed real easy like. Anyway-”Angie said. She stood straight and deepened her voice like a showman presenting a prize on a quiz show and pointed her arm towards the horse stables. “Allow me to introduce you to the most beautiful gals on the farm.”

Stanford followed her hand and caught sight of a couple of long brown faces standing in the stalls that lined the wall of the barn. “Horses?”

“Not just any horses! Top of the line equines bred on this here farm.” Angie grinned walking along the stalls, five long heads poked out as she spoke. “First we have our one and only stallion, Jesse. He and Tuesday over here are our chestnuts.” she pointed her hand in a presenting manner towards a pair of horses with reddish brown coats and manes.

“Nexgz-bleh wait-lemme start over.” she said quickly, clearing her throat, “Next we have Carla and her little foal Cinnamon.” The smaller horse neighed at the mention of her name, trying her best the reach over the stall door. The effort earned her a pet along her short black mane from

Angie.

“Isn’t she adorable?” Angie asked before walking along. “And last, and most certainly not least, we have the award winning Daisy!” Angie said, shaking her hands in the direction of the cream coated horse. Cocking her head to the side, Daisy whinnied while shaking her head, showing off her light coloured man and spotless coat. “Ma an’ Pa got her for me for my birthday when I was real small. I’ve been taking her to shows and winning ever since I could ride,” Angie added proudly.

“She does have a rather well kept coat.” Stanford said, adjusting his glasses to get a better look. He noticed several different coloured ribbons that adorned Daisy’s stall. Blue first place ribbons were displayed proudly near the top of the stall, with the lower ranked ribbons placed beneath them, making an interestingly pair of colour trails that lead down the stall front. The ribbon trails met together at one ribbon that Stanford didn’t recognize. It had cream as its main colour, with white, blue and red highlights. Like the other ribbons, it had a circle of reflective fabric as its centrepiece, with the actual ribbon being woven around it like a flower, ending in two tails beneath. Taking a closer look, Stanford noticed that the central fabric had ‘Best little sister’ stitched in rather crudely; as though the sewer was still learning the ways of using a needle and thread.

“Lute an’ Fidds made that one for me” Angie said, following Ford’s line of sight. “I came home feelin’ a bit sour after my first horse riding comp. I didn’t win, obviously. “She said, now leaning against the side of Daisy’s stall. “Hard to come out on top for something you’re doing for the first time. My family were supportive, but I still took it kind of badly.”

“It’s an understandable reaction,” Stanford said. “You were rather young at the time, if this ribbon’s appearance is any indication.”

“I’m still young!” Angie shot back.

“I meant younger,” Stanford replied. “I wear glasses but I’m not blind.”

“They’d be kinda pointless if you were,” Angie said. “Anyway, where was I? Right, I ended up bawling my eyes out into my pillow that night. But then I heard a knock at my door. But no one was there when I went to answer it,” Angie said. “Instead I found two of that ribbon on the floor. Turned my mood right on its head right then, believe you me. I wore that ribbon for a week straight before finally hanging it from my bed frame.”

“That makes it match with Daisy’s,” Stanford observed.

“Yep!” Angie said happily.

“Your brothers really do love you don’t that?” he said, looking to the tattered ribbon.

“It’s what family does best.” Angie replied.

In that moment, Stanford could have sworn he had heard the sound of someone squealing in pain, ever so faintly. But before he could address his observation he felt something furry rub against his leg. Stanford let go of what he heard ‘probably one of the horses’ he thought as he looked down to his new companion. “And who might you be?” he asked.

“That’s Salmon.” Angie said. She bent down to pet the orange tabby. “Aren’t you a little darling?” she cooed. “We have another cat, Tuna, he shouldn’t be too far away, and I think I saw him earlier.”

Standing up, Angie walked around the barn calling out for the other cat. It took a few minutes before the grey cat trotted into the barn, the fur around his mouth red and slightly damp. “There you are. Back fresh from the hunt?” Angie asked, walking up to the cat. Tuna lightly head butted her leg before rubbing the side of his head and eventually the rest of his body against her.

“Hunt?” Ford asked.

“Yes, these little beasts help keep the mice from getting into our crops,” Angie replied, giving Tuna a scratch behind the ears.

“I-” Stanford stared at Salmon, who had flopped onto his foot as though it were a bed. “Don’t get me wrong, I know the whole cat and mouse tale. But I find it hard to believe that Er-Salmon?”- Angie nodded- “Salmon is the type to strike fear into the hearts of mice.”

“He’s just trying to act all cutesy to ya so that he can weasel treats outta you later on.” Angie grinned, walking over. “You want to hold him?”

“I-is it alright if I did? Wouldn’t I get my clothes dir-” Stanford blushed, realising himself.

“We keep ‘em clean, don’t worry. The worst you’ll get is some fur on your shirt.” Angie said, scooping up the orange puddle that was Salmon, “unless you’re allergic to cats or fur, you’ll be fine,” she smiled.

“I-I don’t remember having any allergies, feline, fur based or otherwise,” Stanford said. He watched as Angie picked up Salmon from below its front legs. The cat’s body hanged lazily; his tail curling up between his hind legs.

“Perfect.”  Angie grinned, offering the cat to Ford.

Hesitating for a moment, Stanford recalled the way his aunts had taught him how to hold his infant cousins. With a careful hand, he reached forward and placed a hand under the cat’s behind and the other behind its shoulders. Interested at his technique, Angie let go of that cat, allowing Stanford to hold that cat against his chest as though it were a baby. Salmon stared up at him, taking in his features, before blinking slowly.

“Aw he likes you,” Angie cooed.

“You think so?” He asked, wearing an ear-to-ear grin.

“He hasn’t tried to run from you or scratch you,” Angie said. “So I’d say that that’s strong evidence to him likin’ you.”

Stanford’s smile was cut short by Salmon batting at his nose as though it were a toy. “How dare you,” he said flatly, staring the cat down.

Angie laughed hysterically as the cat reached for Ford’s nose again.

“You know, it never occurred to me that they’d use a truck to get mail out here,” Stanford said. He watched the mail van drive down the road from the window above the kitchen sink. He was elbow deep in soapy dishwater, hands working away at cleaning off the syrupy remains on the dishes.

“Well they sure as shine ain’t gonna walk all the way out here,” Sally joked. She leafed through a thick set of letters. Her eyes scanned the envelopes and fingers cycling through them quickly. The set until she had read the entire pile in less than a minute. Stanford tried his hardest to not stare as she sorted through the letters. Sally placed the letters into several piles on the kitchen table. ‘Probably to the addressee,’ Stanford thought before turning back to the dishes.

“I mean, they could in theory, but they’d probably have to dedicate a specific mailman for your mail,” Ford said after a cough.

“As nice as that sounds, I’d hate to be the poor son of a gun who’d have to walk out here during the summer scorchers we have comin’ up,” Sally smiled.

“But that’d be their job wouldn’t it? They wouldn’t complain because that’s their lot in life right?” Ford asked. He put the last dish onto the drying rack.

“I doubt that’d be a reason for someone to not be happy with their lot in life,” Sally said. She handed Stanford a dish towel.  “Grumblin’ about things seldom got anyone anywhere in life, but that doesn’t mean you won’t want to. If I had to walk here from town every morning I know I’d be grumbling about my feet hurting until the next morning. But I wouldn’t waste my time grumbling, you gotta keep working hard.”

“So, complaining is okay as long as it’s used to motivate instead of procrastinate?” Stanford asked. He dried his hands on the towel in his pocket before taking the one Sally offered him.

“I’d say that sums it up about right,” Sally grinned. She reached out to ruffle the young man’s hair, but stopped herself. Instead she walked over to the table and picked up the mail, arranging the piles into a perpendicular stack to keep them separate. “When you finish come round to the sewing room would you Stanford?”

“Uh sure-wait wasn’t I supposed to be working in the garden today?” Stanford asked, pausing midway through scrubbing one of the larger dishes.

“I already told Angie to cover your gardening chores for today, you’ll be feeding the animals in her place,” Sally informed him.

“I see—then I’ll be with you in a few minutes.” He quickly finished drying up the plates and put them back in their proper cupboards. ‘Plates to the left, bowls to the right. Tall glasses up above for the tallings,’ he muttered, remembering the not-quite-rhyme that Fiddleford had taught him.

Placing the towel from his pocket on a chair as he walked past, Stanford made his way down the hall. He followed the gentle sounds of a motor and found himself in the sewing room. The room wasn’t very large, hardly any larger than the guest room if Stanford were to guess. It had a large desk against the wall nearest to the door, an assortment of fabrics and enough spools of thread of so many colours that a rainbow would be jealous. The middle of the table had a sewing machine as well as a rather comfortable looking chair. The rest of the room seemed to be used as storage, multiple closets and cardboard boxes lined the walls. Stanford could see the odd faded coat sleeve poking out from the closet door.

“You wanted to see me?” He asked as he stood by the door. He watched Sally carefully move something back and forth under the needle of the sewing machine.

“Ah, ya came a bit earlier than I thought,” Sally said. She didn’t look up from her work. “I’ll be done in a couple minutes, have yourself a seat,” she nodded towards a pile of boxes nearby.

Stanford parked himself on specified stack, noting how the boxes slightly gave way to his weight. As though he was not the first person to use them as a makeshift chair; and considering the lack of another chair in the room, he’d probably not be the last. Stanford played with the loose string on his shirt as he waited the few minutes for Sally to finish whatever she was working on.

“And finished,” Sally said happily. She raised her work into the air before turning to face Stanford. She beamed at him while offering her creation, a pair of custom made six-fingered gloves. “I made them from an old pair of Mearl’s, quickly try them on, I want to make sure I got the size right.”

Stanford stared at the gloves in his hands and felt breath hitch as he felt the slightly matted fabric in his hands. The first five fingers were grey with a pair of green pinkie fingers sewed on to the end. There was a large stitch across the palm. Stanford pulled the gloves on and flexed his fingers.

“How are they?” Sally asked.

“They’re a little tight here but apart from that they’re perfect,” Stanford said. He pointed along his knuckles to show where he was talking about. “The fabric kind of digs into my knuckles.”

“I’ll see what I can do for you,” Sally smiled. Stanford handed her the gloves and she got back to work. “This’ll take a while so you're probably best to get to feedin’ the critters.”

“Er— Right,” Stanford said. He walked over to the door before stopping. “Sa—Mrs. McGucket, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it Stanford,” Sally smiled.

A/N: this is a shorter and more bonding based chapter. Things will get a bit more plot heavy next chapter. Today was Angie’s turn in the spot light giving Stanford a more in-depth tour than the one he had last chapter. 

I hope you guys enjoyed reading!

#gravity falls #stanford pines #angie mcgucket #thelastspeecher #sally mcgucket #gf oc #mine #writers on tumblr #grunkle ford #gravity falls au #i ende dup expanding this chapter into next chapter and adding in the last scene #originally that last svene wa sone i was goign to add in after the next chapters a sa way to show that stanford is fittign in withthe farm #but i wa sa bit pressed for space so i decided ot add it in early so taht i could have th eentire focus of next chapter be about what it is #so yeah #i hope you guys enjoy this #Stanford Mcgucket #My writing

[eregyrn-falls-art]

MerGucket AU! And a slightly-belated happy birthday to @thelastspeecher! (click to embiggen)

I really enjoy TheLastSpeecher’s AUs, and my favorite is probably the MerGucket AU and its various offshoots (see their work at the mergucket au tag here for an explanation).  I’ve been wanting to do art for it for a while (I did some portraits for it during Inktober), and this seemed like a good time to get off my butt and do it!  Thanks for all of the fun ideas and ficlets!

For all of the designs and details here, I’m completely indebted to @agent-jaselin‘s extensive work (see it at the mergucket au tag here).

#gravity falls #mermay #stanley pines #stanford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #angie mcgucket #fiddauthor #stan x angie #gf oc #mergucket au #my art #also appropriate for mermay! #stangie

[thelastspeecher]

Ford's New Home

Surprise! A random Foster Ford AU ficlet! I've been working on it for a bit and finally got it finished up. Enjoy~

——————————————————————————————

              Stan opened the back door of the Stanmobile.

              “You ready, Stan?” he asked Ford.  Sitting in his booster seat, his suitcase and backpack on the seat next to him, Ford nodded.  Stan unbuckled Ford and picked him up, setting him on the ground.  “You’re gonna love it here, kiddo.”  Ford nodded again.  Stan handed him his backpack, which Ford shrugged on.  Ford reached for his suitcase, only for Stan to grab it instead.

              “I can carry it,” Ford protested.  Stan ruffled his hair.

              “I know.  But I’m supposed to carry the bigger stuff for you.  What kinda uncle would I be if I didn’t?  C’mon, Angie’s waiting for us!”  Stan closed the door and headed up the walkway to the modest but well-kept gray house.  Ford followed.  Multiple emotions warred for dominance.  He couldn’t decide whether to be excited, relieved, or, strangely, anxious.

              Why am I nervous?  This is what I’ve sought since I first crossed paths with Stan!  Ford sighed softly.  It’s probably just the change in my living situation.  At this vulnerable age, large changes cause me undue stress.  Ford paused by the massive and thriving flower garden along the front of the house.

              “Does Aunt Angie garden?” Ford asked, using the question as an excuse to get used to calling his sister-in-law his aunt.  Stan nodded.  “Just flowers, or…?”

              “Oh, she’s got vegetables and herbs in the backyard,” Stan said.  He raised an eyebrow.  “You wanna garden with her?”  Ford shrugged.

              “Sounds nice,” he said noncommittally.  It would definitely switch up his routine.  There were only so many activities he was allowed to do as a five-year-old.

              “It’s a good idea,” Stan said.  “Kids need to play in dirt.  It’s healthy.  Makes ‘em grow up strong.”  Ford smiled.  A genuine warm smile spread across Stan’s face in return.  He pushed the door open.  “Welcome home, Stanford.”  Ford stepped inside.

              The front door opened directly into a living room.  It was very tidy, with the exception of the coffee table covered in papers and textbooks.  Framed photos hung on the walls, most of various amphibians, but a few of Stan, Angie, or both of them.  A television pressed against the wall, across from a recliner, which Ford knew immediately was Stan’s favorite place to sit.  Ford could just about see into the adjacent kitchen from where he stood, which looked like it had been cleaned recently.

They clearly wanted to prepare for my arrival.  Sitting on the gray couch under the living room’s large front window was Ford’s sister-in-law/new foster mother, Angie.  She paged through a guidebook on amphibians, petting a purring calico cat on her lap.  Stan cleared his throat.  Angie looked up.  She quickly set the cat on the couch and stood, smiling sheepishly.

              “Lost track of time?” Stan teased.  Angie tucked a strand of caramel-colored hair behind one ear, blushing.  “I get it.  Those lizards are distracting.”

              “That book is about amphibians,” Ford corrected.  “Lizards are reptiles.”  If he wasn’t this young, he wouldn’t be as bold correcting an adult.  At his current age, most adults found his lack of social skills to be endearing, rather than problematic.  Sure enough, Stan and Angie both chuckled.

              “You got me, kid,” Stan said.  “I just call ‘em all lizards to tease Angie.”

              “I don’t mind none,” Angie drawled in her eerily familiar southern accent.  “I actually find it quite amusin’.”  She smiled at Ford.  “Anyways, enough ‘bout my distractable nature.  Do ya want to see yer new room, Stan?”  Angie frowned.  “Hmm.  It’ll be tough, havin’ two folks what go by Stan in the house.”

              “Actually,” Ford piped up quickly, “I don’t want to be called Stan.”

              I was planning on telling them to call me by my proper nickname at some point.  I might as well seize the opportunity.  Angie’s eyes widened.

              “Oh, don’t do that on my account!” she said.  “We can figure it out.  Maybe call ya Lil Stan and Big Stan…”

              “No, I- I never wanted to be called Stan,” Ford said.  He scowled.  “The police officers called me that and didn’t listen to me when I corrected them.  Then it stuck.”

              “Typical pigs,” Stan muttered under his breath.  To his surprise, Angie nodded in agreement.

              Angie didn’t strike me as an anti-police kind of person.  Then again, I’ve only met her a few times.  F was very much in that category.  They have similar accents.  Perhaps they come from the same region, and it is a common sentiment there.

              “What do you want to be called, then?” Stan asked, drawing Ford from his musings.

              “Ford.”  A pained expression crossed Stan’s face, so quickly that Ford would have missed it if he hadn’t been looking.

              “Are- are you sure?” Stan said.  Ford was impressed by Stan’s ability to hide the clearly complicated emotions he was experiencing.

              I can’t blame him.  The supposed son of his estranged and missing twin, named after that twin and asking to go by that twin’s nickname?  I have no idea how I would respond in his shoes, but it certainly wouldn’t be as even keeled.

              “Yes,” Ford said firmly.  “It’s a better nickname for Stanford than Stan, I think.”

              “It’ll make things easier,” Angie commented.  Stan nodded.

              “Yeah.”  He grinned at his wife, all hints of distress gone.  “I wasn’t looking forward to being called ‘Big Stan’ anyways.”  Stan patted his stomach for emphasis.  Angie laughed.

              “Oh, please, you know I love yer cushionin’.”

              “And it’s good for boxing,” Stan added.  He looked at Ford.  “I might have to teach you a few moves.”  Ford shrugged noncommittally.

              “First, we have to show him the room he’ll be stayin’,” Angie said.  She began to walk away.  Ford and Stan followed her into the hallway behind the living room, still lugging Ford’s things.  They walked past a bathroom, then Angie stopped in front of a closed door.  She smiled at Ford.  “Welcome home, kidlet.”  She pushed the door open.  Ford stepped inside.

              The room wasn’t as nice as Ford’s bedroom at the Youngs’ was.  It consisted of a twin bed with a blue bedspread, a dark brown dresser, matching desk, and closet.  The cat, which had followed them from the living room, strolled in after Ford and hopped onto the bed.

              “It’s…” Ford started.

              “…fairly sparse,” Angie interjected.  “We know.”

              “Shermie – your other uncle – brought over the furniture from when his kid was your age,” Stan said, setting down Ford’s suitcase.  Ford shrugged off his backpack.  “We decided to hold off on the other stuff until you got here.”

              “Why?” Ford asked.

              “Madeline and Wyatt told us that we could get stuff with space and aliens, since ya like that.  But we thought it would be nice if ya had a chance to choose yer own stuff,” Angie said.  “As I understand it, bein’ in foster care means ya don’t always get to do that.”  Ford stared at them.

              When Ford lived with the Youngs, Wyatt would always bring him along on shopping trips.  Even though Ford was relegated to the baby seat of the shopping cart every time, he was still able to see just how expensive children’s things were.

              They’re willing to spend that much on me?  Stan is willing to spend that much on me?

              “Are you sure?” Ford asked tentatively.  He stifled a frustrated groan at how timid and small his voice was.

              “Of course we are!” Angie said.  “We want ya to be comfortable ‘n feel at home!”  Stan grunted quietly.  Angie elbowed him.

              “Uh, yeah- yeah, we’re gonna get you stuff tomorrow,” Stan mumbled.  He forced a smile.  “But you can’t go crazy, okay?  Your Uncle Stan isn’t made of money.”  Angie sighed softly.

              “We went over this,” she muttered under her breath.  Ford winced.

              Maybe Stan isn’t that willing to spend so much on me.  Angie seems to have twisted his arm in this matter.  Ford quickly walked over to his bed and sat on it.  He looked at the cat licking itself next to him.

              “What is the cat named?” he asked.  Both Stan and Angie seemed relieved by the topic change, their shoulders losing some tension.

              “Dr. Whiskers,” Angie replied.  She smiled at Ford.  “He loves pets, by the way.”  Picking up on the hint, Ford carefully stroked the cat’s fur.  Dr. Whiskers promptly rolled onto his side, purring happily.

              “What is his doctorate in?” Ford asked.  He didn’t expect an answer; most people didn’t think of a degree to give their pet they named “Doctor”.  To his surprise, Angie replied promptly.

              “Early 20th century French literature.”

              “…What?”

              “It was the strangest degree I could think of a cat gettin’,” Angie said with a shrug.  Stan put an arm around her shoulders, grinning.

              “He’s got enough brains to get the degree, too.  I’ve met some of the people at Angie’s school.  I know how smart grad students are.”

              “Stan,” Angie sighed, rolling her eyes.  Stan chortled.  Angie looked at her watch.  “If we’re goin’ to make dinner, we ought to get started soon.  Do ya want us to make dinner, Ford?  Or would ya prefer we order somethin’?”  Ford shrugged.  “We’ll do homemade, then.  It’s healthier fer ya.”  Angie looked at Stan.  “Mind bein’ my sous chef, darlin’?”

              “Only if Ford doesn’t need my help unpacking,” Stan replied.  He raised an eyebrow at Ford.  Ford shook his head.

              “I can handle it on my own.”

              “Classic independent Pines man,” Stan said with an approving nod.  “Join us in the kitchen when you’re done unpacking.”  Ford nodded.  Stan and Angie left the room.  As the two walked away, Ford could hear Angie speaking to Stan.

              “We can’t let him unpack all his things without help.”

              “We’ll rearrange stuff after dinner,” Stan replied.  “Give him some time to settle in.  And it won’t hurt for him to get proud of unpacking all on his own, without any help from a grownup.”  Angie laughed.

              “Fair point.”  Their voices faded enough that Ford could no longer make out individual words.  He slid off the bed and walked over to his suitcase.  He unzipped it and began to take out the clothes inside, putting them away in his new dresser.

              They might think that they’ll have to do some rearranging after dinner, but that’s where they’re wrong.  Dr. Whiskers jumped off the bed and curled up on the floor next to Ford.  Ford petted the cat, smiling when it purred in response.  I’m perfectly capable of putting away my meager belongings.  He looked over at the closet.  Correction.  I’m perfectly capable of putting away my meager belongings that don’t need to be hung up.

#Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Gravity Falls #Gravity Falls AU #Foster Ford AU #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

[novantinuum]

@thelastspeecher I legit can’t stop thinking about that woofer au and making aus of your au hhrjfjfigo

but I waaaant to think of a way that perpetual full moon weirdmageddon could happen so we can have this badass werewolf family facing the apocalypse

so like what about,,,

an alternate version where ford- all paranoid and a wreck- goes through the portal same as in canon. Ford summoned Stan, who came alone. he and Angie have history already, i’m p sure... but she’s disappeared for the last few months.

a few weeks later, when Stan’s started working on fixing the portal, and just after the full moon... imagine his surprise when he finds Angie naked on the outskirts of Ford’s property, out in the middle of the forest. She shows Stan the bite, Stan shows her his burn, and by the next full moon they’ve figured out what’s happened with her. So werewolves exist, Stan marvels. Huh.

They live together from then on, and work together to try and get the portal operating again. With Angie’s help, it’s rebuilt in a fraction of the 30 years it took in canon- but they were still missing j3 until summer 2012. I definitely think Angie would find Fidds and help rehabilitate him, and help quick enough that his memory doesn’t entirely go kaput. (Still debating if Fidds helps with the portal or not. I’d lean towards not in a million years...) Stan and Angie ALSO have their kiddos (the first three a surprise) and eventually marry after the triplets.

Maybe in this AU it’s the werewolf thing that’s more secret than the portal thing...? Not quite sure haha, but I think the cat’s out of the bag for both on the same night. OH HECK idea- NWHS takes place on a full moon night. Just before the portal activates the moon goes full and in the chaos of the portal going off Stan can’t stop himself from turning so when Ford comes back he just sees this huge ass grey wolf next to the kids and,, knowing Ford, he almost shoots, and would have if it weren’t for Soos, who fully knows Stan and Angie and their family are werewolves.

And for the twin switch idea, is it at all possible that Stan, after turning Ford, would be able to- with extreme concentration- return to human form (and don Ford’s clothes) just long enough to do the handshake with Bill? That’s the sorta concept I was thinking of for that!

#gravity falls #stanley pines #angie mcgucket #stanford pines

[thatabitcryptic]

How do you think fidds and fords relationship developed over the years? Like from college to marriage(May and Fidds) to portal partners to enemys to lovers etc. I have my own headcanons but I want to know what you think!

O o o o o o o ok I am a sap so uhh here we go

So during college I don’t really think they had an established romantic relationship,, I personally like to think it started out with ford disliking fidds with. A. Passion.

He’s stuck in the worst University, in the worst dormitory, with the worst roommate.

Fiddleford played banjo almost every night which distracted him from his study. He was loud and rowdy, trying to make conversation when ford was clearly busy and not interested. He was just a southern hick who didn’t take lessons seriously and in Ford’s opinion was wasting his time here.

Until... (please forgive me idk how American schooling works let alone college lmao) end of term exams (I feel like their called finals?? I haven’t a clue tbh) ford starts to push himself harder and harder in class because he can’t fail he can’t he has to prove he’s not just some freak no one wants but he can’t do it he can’t focus it’s all too much he’s going to fail. Everything’s all wrong. He’s missing Stan something.

Fidds sees him struggling to study. Ford’s restless in his chair, grumbling to himself, wiping his tears eyes and he’s standing up and pacing. So fidds, the kind soul that he is, asks what’s wrong to only be met with ford leaning in close and yelling at him about how it’s all his fault he’s failing with his ‘hick southern quirks’ keeping him from concentrating. I hc fidds to be very sensitive about his accent and upbringing when he was younger so this is a heavy blow. Ford sees his face shift from confusion to anger to anxiety and he feels terrible. Uh yeah next he breaks down into fidds’ chest soaking his shirt and just repeating how sorry he is.

Fiddleford comforts him and immediately forgives him bc he is clearly remorseful and tbh fidds just be like that. After ford calms down he starts freaking out again because he’s got exams coming up and he’s not going to do very well. So fiddy boy offers to help but ford is doubtful... and fidds can see it on his face. So he goes and grabs a little knickknack he had been working on (idk what it is but it’s very impressive to ford)

Fidds help him pass all his classes with flying colours. This is when ford realises that he’s gay. However my guy has some internalised homophobia.

Anyway now that they are on better terms they start to hang out and goof around as college buddy’s. If ford gets stressed fidds notices and rests a hand on his shoulder. Ford is very not straight. Also it’s canon that they stay up late and talk about the future which is sweet so that happens.

Okay so college kinda goes like that nothing explicit but lots of pining (hehe) from both sides - fidds is also a flustered mess but ford is blind to it bc there’s no way he would like me back but I’m not gay so it does matter ahaha (ford has lots of emotions)

So fidds’ marriage uhhhh I don’t really have anything positive to say here except for tate so idk

Emma-may. I don’t think she’s all too great considering she left fidds when he needed her most. Also I do think fidds was attracted too her at some point but I don’t think he was ever in love with her. He just got married and had Tate because that’s what you did back then, got married settled down and had kids.

(Oh to set it in the timeline this would be after college when ford was researching gravity falls alone - so the invitation to be the best man at the wedding was heart breaking for him bc he had no clue who this Emma-may was and he felt more alone than he ever had since Stan was kicked out.)

Next portal era!!

Ford doesn’t want to drag fidds away from his family but he needs his help. Ruh roh his feelings resurface and just a heck of a lot of pining.

Fidds and may are going through a rough patch (uhhhh she’s cheating oof) so he is super excited to see ford, to sort of get away for a bit - I like to think they filed for a divorce right before Ford’s call.

Again ford and fidds’ relationship doesn’t become offical but they are both yearning SO MUCH. Oh what Fidds is designing the bunker? oh what he can only fit one bed down there?? Welp Ford’s fine with that bc he’s not gay,, it’s not gay to blush when you homie puts his head on your hair. (Lots of ford waking up to being hugged and he’s fine with that bc ...they’re just friends)

Also fidds is like sad bc his marriage failed so ford is awkwardly trying to cheer him up while also seeing an opening but he represses that’s bc it’s insensitive and he’s totally straight .

Canon blah blah blah

(also may stinks bc even tho you are getting divorced you don't give up on someone who’s going through a huge storm,, especially if he’s the father of your son but idk that’s just my thoughts)

Now 30yrs later. Ford and fidds get together and finally get married :D I have too many ideas about how this could happen so idk but is very fluffy and soft

Okay ahahaha those are my thoughts and I have more small details about them during the portal era I didn’t put in because this is already VERY l o n g.

#idk their relationship is very fluffy and their are lots of sweet moments in my mind #ALSO fidds comforting and helping ford that first time is sort of paralleled to when he tries to do the same about the portal #only this time ford is angy bc yknow the portal is his life’s work so he can’t just give up (fidds’ reasoning is the end of the world #and that it’s stressing ford out WAY too much) #tbh I’m writing this while I’m overtired so I might go back and edit stuff later bc this is probably incoherent #also thanks for the ask about this bc this was fun ahaha :D #fiddauthor #stanford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #internalised homophobia #cheating #uhhhh ask to tag I guess??? #gravity falls #asks

[gosecretscribbles]

Restaurant AU with Stan and OC Angie

@thelastspeecher has many Gravity Falls AU and they made this one AU where Stan owns a restaurant and xier OC Angie (Fidd's sister) works there and it is SOFT and CUTE so I had to make fanart, link to full fic for this below the pics.

You like? That's rhetorical, yes you do, here be da fic! https://thelastspeecher.tumblr.com/post/643145146880425984/8-stangie-i-cant-pick-an-au-not-sure

#thelastspeecher #stangie #stan pines #stanley pines #oc angie mcgucket #restaurant #restaurant au #alone on valentine's day #i'm still not happy with how stan's face turned out #his expression's okay but not sure what i did wrong there #oh well i redid it like four times and i don't have a tablet so i did it via mouse #accept my artist pain #i seriously like angie though #the art and the character #she's canon-level OC goodness #I will read canon lore on fidds and wonder why it doesn't mention angie before i remember #thanks thelastspeecher for the fic feels

[amydiddle]

Since that Anon asked for both #15 and #25, and you chose #25, how about #15? Still a ship with Stan (cuz I love me some dad!Stan) but...a different ship than Fiddlestan, if you feel comfortable trying it out. c:

NUMBERS 15.   Baby’s first steps

So…my confidence in other people’s characters has dwindled a little but I am willing to try today, I giess? (At least babies don’t talk) So I am basing this off my sister who never once crawled and also what my mom did when I was a baby which was kind of set up a blanket in whatever room we were in so I could lay on it. 

Stanley hummed along with the radio as it played softly in the background of the kitchen. Behind him his twin daughters were giggling to each other on a blanket he had placed on the floor for them to rest on. Their toys had mostly been contained to the blanket today and he considered that a blessing. 

He fell into a sort of trance as he made dinner for that night. The calmness of the day lulling him into an odd sort of lull. The thing that broke that lull was the sudden silence that had filled the small room. The girls were never quiet even when they were sleeping. 

“Girls?”

Stan pulled himself away from the pot and stared in horror at the empty blanket that should have two tiny children. 

“Danny? Daisy?” Stan felt his hands begin to sweat. They had not even showed signs of crawling yet where could they have gone. Had something happened to them? Could his little girls have been taken when he was lost in thought?

“Girls!?!” Stanley hurried out of the room and stared down the hallway. Panic was fueling his steps and he looked into every room. 

Stan almost overlooked a very obvious detail in the master bedroom. A little giggle that barely reached his ears past the song of his beating heart. He was almost fully down the hall when his brain caught up to him and he backtracked. 

Daisy clung to the bed and stood up on her shaky little legs. Next to her was her sister, who shakily started to let go of the bedding. Neither of them seemed aware of their father. 

“Wait!” Stan moved fast to try and stop Danny from letting go or, at least, catch her before she fell. He froze at the sight he saw. 

The little girl wobbled on her legs but stayed standing. When she caught sight of his dad she made a happy little squee and took wobbly steps towards him. He laughed as she stumbled right into his open arms. 

Daisy seemed to take that as a chance to do the same and wobbled over to her dad and clung to his shirt once she got there. Both of the girl’s babbled excitedly to each other after that. 

Stan just stared at them both in shock. His little girls just walked over to him…and somehow escaped to the bedroom without him noticing. A soft laugh left his lips before it fell into a full on belly laugh. He hugged them both close and placed a kiss on their head. 

“You two are amazing,” he said through the laughter. Both of his daughters giggling with them, “Wait till I tell your Mama what you just pulled on me. She won’t believe it.” 

“I won’t believe what?” 

“Angie!” Stan looked back at the doorway with an excited smile on his face. “They’re walking!” 

#gravity falls #gravity falls au #gravity falls fic #stangie #gravity falls oc #angie mcgucket #stanley pines #my writing #I tried #Babies are hard #unedited

[vulpixen]

Here’s my second drabble that is set in @thelastspeecher ‘s Pirate AU where their character Angie McGucket is a pirate captain who goes by the name Sully McGowan as their alias, pretending to be a man, and with Stan Pines as her first mate. This drabble is set where Angie still went by Sully before changing to Sally years later. Where Angie lets a new crewmember onto her ship in a most unexpected way, and Dan encountering someone from his past: ___________________________________________________________

When the smoke cleared and the rushing of the sea makes Sweet Viola rock, it was clear who won when the other pirate ship, Rash Rochelle, high tails away in defeat as they leave behind their dead onboard Captain Sully’s vessel.

On the deck, Sully spits to the side and in disgust of the cowards who left behind their own that were killed in self-defense; some by his own hand. Sully makes a gesture to his first mate, Stan, to beckon him wordlessly.

“Yeah, Captain?” voices Stan, saluting in his captain’s presence.

“Round up the bodies and count the heads of our own. Need to make sure there are those of us who are breathing.” Stan gives him a firm nod.

“Understood. Those bastards put up a fight they did. And ran like cowards to not even take their dead with them...” Stan turns his heel and announces the captain’s orders for the crew to hear. They obediently follow and get their wounds treated in the process.

It did not take long for the heads of Sully’s crew to be counted. Not one of them died this day. The same cannot be said for the men of the rival ship who fell by their blades and muskets with their bodies lined up and prepared to be thrown overboard. Almost. A cough came from a young man with dark lengthy red hair and tattered clothes with a dark green bandana around his head.

The doctor examining the bodies whistles for Dan. “This one still lives! Better let the captain know--”

“Wait…” Dan puts a hand on the man’s face and seeing those hazel eyes of his that spark a memory, moving locks of thick red hair from his face. The more he moves aside, the more he recognizes the face of someone from his youth he left behind a lifetime ago. That young man is in fact a woman with a face adorn with freckles, a long scar across her right cheek that trailed down to her neck and a notched right ear. Scars marred the young woman’s face, but Dan sees her as the woman he thought he would never see again after years of being apart, though not by choice. The woman he loved since their youth: Bethany Hickok.

Bethany growls and flails an arm to keep him and the doctor from touching her, but she clutches at her stab wound in her chest she sustained during the fight and dropped hard on the ground that knocked her out cold and left her bleeding.

“Beth…” Dan croaks before he booms. “BETHANY IT’S ME! Dan…” Bethany’s eyes widen, knowing that booming strong voice could only come from one man she remembers so clearly by looking at Dan’s features on his face. He certainly grew more of a beard since last she saw him as Boyish Dan in their youth and grew much taller as well. Though Bethany too grew much taller than most woman are at six foot in height to easily dwarf those by her.

“Dan..?” Bethany mumbles before she passes out, her body going limp.

Dan nudges the doctor next to him. “Get her to the medical QUARTER. I’ll go inform the captain RIGHT away!” The doctor will never get used to Dan’s booming voice right by his ear.

Inside Sully’s cabin, Dan sits in the seat across from Sully and his desk with Stan leaning against the beam of the living quarters and Daisy in the captain’s lap. Dan begins to share what him and the doctor discovered about one of the surviving pirates. As Sully listens, his expression grew firmer but his face ever so slightly softens when Dan shares more of his past he never told him before til now. Before, Dan only made some mentions of yearning to return home until that changed when him and Sully turned to piracy as their new life and left behind the former.

“Ya see… Bethany isn’t just a girl I knew in my youth. We were betrothed.” Dan’s eyes showing sorrow and regret at the mention. “And I left her and my family behind.”

“Betrothed?” Stan inquires, running ideas in his mind about how Bethany may or may not have gotten bitter over the years and jumping to the conclusion in his head that Dan ran away and left her at the altar when it was not the case. “Oof. Can’t blame her if she may be bitter about you having disappeared.”

“Won’t blame her if she is…” Dan mutters, eying back at Sully and Stan. “After getting casted away at sea by a storm, ending up doing odd jobs that eventually got me into piracy, I couldn’t bring myself to ever go back home. And I found purpose in being loyal to our captain and our crew.” Now Stan rethinks everything and frowns. It was tragedy that happened. Sully knew his former first mate’s story since their beginning days of their piracy together. Before Sully became captain of the ship he now stands and commands on.

Sully places a finger to his chin and hearing the purrs of his orange tabby in contemplation, he asks of Dan for his opinion of what they should do about the potential prisoner/crewmate. “What do you suppose we do about your former sweetheart?”

Dan blushes, rubbing his neck before giving his answer. His tone was less booming but more somber than usual, something Sully and Stan rarely see him be. “I think she would be a good member of the crew here. She knows me and I’ve known her for years she would be a fine addition if I can convince her. And… I never stopped loving her. Part of me hopes she still loves me too. I want to at least set things right with her.”

“Alright then.” Sully permits without hesitation. “If she accepts, she’ll be on the probation period. She needs to prove to me, the crew, and you she will not stab us in the back and do exactly as I command and be respectful to our fellow crewmates. I want to trust your word, Dan, but anything about her could have changed for the worse than you knew her. I need to know if she’s still loyal to her former captain also.”

“Of course, Captain.” Dan gives him an affirming nod.

“In fact, me and Stan will meet Bethany with you; I want to see her and give my judgement personally.” Sully shows a faint smile.

In the medical quarters, Dan, Sully and Stan enter inside where the doctor was patching the unconscious woman’s exposed chest, stitching up the wound and having strapped her wrists with leather belts from the bed in the event she were to wake and try something no one would like. The doctor always kept a revolver nearby, but he rarely ever needed it. But one cannot be too careful.

“Doctor.” The doctor faces the direction of Sully’s rough voice and permits him inside as he rose and unlocks the door for the captain.

“Yes, Captain.” The doctor opens the door and allows him, the first mate and crewmate inside. “About our captive, she still lives. I just finished stitching the stab wound. Any deeper and she would have died for sure.” He leads the three to see the patient.

Bethany groans, stirring awake and finds her wrists bound to the bed by leather straps she moves until Dan goes up to her.

“Hey, easy, Bethany. It’s alright. The doc was patchin’ ya up is all.” Dan’s assurance has Bethany’s breathing ease and getting a better look at her old love confirms she wasn’t dreaming.

“My gods… it’s really you, Dan,” Bethany mutters, trying to sit up, but was lightly kept down by the doctor while he unties the leather around her wrists, seeing she won’t be aiming to hurt anyone.

“I wouldn’t sit up for a while or the stiches will bleed.”

Bethany huffs and stays lying still on her back as Sully and Stan approaches her to get a better look.

“So, you’re the fiancé Dan talked about with us,” Stan says bluntly.

“Positive things?” Bethany faces Dan before Sully speaks. She was going through many, many emotions.

“Positive things. I am this ship’s captain, Sullivan McGowan, but you may address me as Captain Sully.”

Bethany grins, glancing up and down to get a good look at Sully’s rather short stature in comparison to the larger men he is standing with. She had an inkling why that could be since Sully is clearly not a child. Bethany chuckles while remarking snidely. “Aren’t you short for a captain?” Dan and Stan gulp as did the doctor, knowing Sully made it perfectly clear to never be mocked in any way shape or form; that includes his short height.

“And aren’t you tall for a woman?” Sully snorts, unamused. “Enough with the pointless blathering. The point I want to make is to make an offer with you. I’m extending an invitation for you to join my crew if you so choose.” Bethany gives an incredulous expression.

“You won’t drop me off to the next port?” inquires Bethany.

“I mean I could if you refuse.” Sully speaks before he makes his intentions clear with the young woman. “Let me make things clear with how I run my ship and crew: there are women among my crew and some of the finest shipmates I could ever have next to the men that here too. I aim to treat each member with dignity and respect along with equal share of the goods we procure. I want to give you a better opportunity than what you likely had before than with the other crew you were with since they were so eager to leave their dead behind. Almost.”

Bethany thinks back to the last person she fought, the one who stabbed her in the chest. She remembers flowing locks of brown hair and radiant fierceness from her features. “Yeah…. It was one of your ladies who stabbed and almost killed me. I’m impressed.”

“I like that attitude.” Sully bows his head. “Would you like to join my crew?” “Where do I start?” Bethany accepts.

“Start with resting up. You’ll be on a probation period and I need to speak with you later about the crew you were with before.”

Bethany salutes her with a confident grin. “Aye, aye, captain!”

#angie mcgucket #stangie #stan pines #stanley pines #manly dan #mrs. corduroy #pirate au #vulpixen writes #vulpixen drabbles #thelastspeecher

[agent-jaselin]

ANgie in G1 with D3?

Stan singing off key: She looked like an ANGEL

#gravity falls ocs #angie mcgucket #my art #memes